Hetalia: Eternal Damnation
by Bai-Marionette
Summary: It is time to see where your loyalties lie. It is time to see if you are strong enough to resist temptation. It is time to see if you would survive at all. America x Vampire!Russia Sequel to 'I Pledge To You My Eternal Soul'
1. Demands

**Eternal Damnation**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** It is time to see where your loyalties lie. It is time to see if you are strong enough to resist temptation. It is time to see if you would survive at all. America x Vampire!Russia

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

Story alert/ Favorites: **Insanityispartofthejob, xXBlackPhantomXx, LadyCaledonia, Moongirl12121, doubleyouachwhyayoheye, Japanese Sinister, True Blue Chan, Silverdove91, Become one with Russia Da, **

Reviewer(s)!: Renee, emismpunk, RainbowJapan, Moongirl12121, TheRussianRose(2), Ashcola17, salenastarzz, Japanese Sinister, RedLinkTheHetaliaFan, Zexionienzo, Tavii, TangoMangos **

Renee: I can't reply to all of your reviews, but I just want to say thank you. Your reviews came to me in the middle of the night but I love you for waking me up and sending me back to sleep with a smile, knowing my story wasn't complete shit. (P.S: No one likes RussUK. It's just…weird.)

emismpunk: Sequel in progress! First chapter up!

RainbowJapan: I am unpredictable~

Moongirl12121: I hope that the sequel wasn't too late. (I love your crazy-inner voice. It made me laugh. And can I just say: I love your profile pic. Your picture of Russia is just so KAWAII! XD)

TheRussianRose: I will now proceed to faint. *faints*

Ashcola17: Innocence of vampire replaced by the tragic emptiness of demonic birth. Kolkolkolkol. You make me laugh~ You shall see Mathew again, ve-rr-y soon….Do you still have some muffins left? I love muffins…

salenastarzz: I can't say my smile will stop growing every time I see a review like that. ^_^

Japanese Sinister: Don't hate yourself, and I hope the sequel meets expectations.

RedLinkTheHetaliaFan: A lot of people liked "IPTYME"! You're not the only one! And thank you for complimenting my writing style! I'm glad you liked the smut, there's more in this addition. And here is the new installment!

Zexionienzo: Thank you, I hope I get to keep it…

Tavii: Always good to see someone who doesn't cry easily~ It makes it all the more fun to evoke emotion from them. *Russian smile*

TangoMangos: Thank you for telling me. ^_^

Become one with Russia Da: One, your username is pure fucking genius. Two, I very well shall become one with my favorite yandere character! Kolkolkolkol~

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**WELCOME TO THE SEQUEL, GUYS! THIS IS** '_Eternal Damnation'_**!**

**GET READY TO LOSE YOUR SOUL!**

(If you even have one, anymore…)

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**|.:Prologue:.|**

_Demands_

_**[Mathew]**_

Cutting through flesh, was a thin blade, his blade. The young male stuck his booted foot against the vampire's face, and then yanked his blade free as the body toppled backwards to bleed out against the snow. Red lines traced a pattern through the white, sometimes spilling together to make a small pool or crossing lines to form intricate red-bordered shapes.

Violet eyes were hard in the dark night, since he had long since stopped smiling and his eyes stopped brightening. He had no reason to smile anymore. Soft blonde hair barely rising from its tight knot at the base of his neck, since he refused to allow it as a weakness, but the fact that it was long when his brother was taken, he kept it long but out of the way. His once-rosy face was now pale, since he had long since stopped blushing.

He glared, flatly down at the dying man laying the frigid snow. He knelt, eyes hard. "Now, I'll ask you once again," he said. For extra emphasis, he aligned his blade to put the tip of the blade at the vampire's throat. The silver point was still dripping with blood.

"Where is Ivan Bragniski?" He ordered. He wasn't too surprised when the vampire coughed up more blood. He wasn't surprised when the vampire had to take repeated deep breath and clutch its wounded heart, in vain, stop the bleeding.

He didn't get surprised anymore, he got answer.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" He asked, coldly. The vampire's breath hitched, as its red eyes widened. Its dark hair was lying to form a dark halo around its pale face. Its red eyes were focused on the hunter's face, trying to take something from it. Anything to help it decipher how the human had won and it had lost.

Him, a powerful vampire and feared around the area for its brutality in all it killed, and the hunter- who was only a mere human boy with a cold face.

He looked ready to shake its head but after a chanced look at the blade, ready and poised at its neck, it hesitated. Barely managing a hissed, "No…"

The young hunter's eyes blinked, but remained the same. His face didn't change. The biting wind tried to caress his face but stopped short and just blew lightly at his hair instead. It would seem even the coldest season was even afraid to touch him.

The young hunter waited, but the vampire said nothing. His patience was beginning to wear thin. He wanted information, not silence. He made a move to rise, and he saw the vampire's vain effort to swipe at his calf, right where his black boots ended and became dark pants instead. It was a last ditch effort and that showed, the vampire had left too many places on him open to attack.

Too bad, though, that the hunter saw one of those very open areas and chose the closest one to him. Within the same time it took the vampire's heart to beat, he thrust a second and smaller blade through the vampire's hand. He put his heel to the blade's hilt, and pressed down, digging it deeper into the vampire's wrist.

The vampire howled with pain, trying vainly to pull its hand free. Inky tears ran down its porcelain face and the hunter said nothing. The hunter pressed his heel in further, bones cracking under the stiletto's silver weight and its holy water glistening surface. Pain erupted in the vampire's hand, as red eyes widened. He had not expected the hunter to come with more than one vampire-proof weapon.

Who was this hunter, it thought, and the vampire's resistance finally cracked as the hunter, unsympathetically, dug the blade in deeper, still remaining silent with his face impassive.

"Stop, please stop!" The vampire cried, pleading. One arm, already nearly slashed to just strips of muscle and the exposed and slashed bone underneath, held onto its captive wrist. "Please, I'll tell you what I do! Just stop, have mercy on the undead!"

The hunter didn't even pause, it just pressed further on the blade beneath his foot. "And what do you know?" His words were clipped and stern. One could feel the winter's breath in every syllable. His tone was flat and neutral, no anger or underlying emotion.

Just a flat, cold voice that would haunt the vampire's last moments alive. Its red eyes were pleading as it grasped its captive wrist. "Please, I do not know much, but please—"

The hunter's face was still emotionless, but he was growing more impatient under his detached persona. To show the vampire that his time on this plain was limited and held by his hand, he finally drove the stiletto through the snow and into the hard soil.

The vampire cried out, as its hand was pinned into the soil, the silver and holy water still burning it. It was barely getting enough to cry out in pain. Its vision was wavering and on the verge of going black. But it fought death, its second and final death; it did not want to die.

He wanted nothing more than to slash the vampire's throat open and send his blood arching into the air. He then would cut off the vampire's fangs, and seal the fangs in the same vial as the one where he would store the vampire's blood.

He did this to all of the vampires who crossed his path. No undead was paired his cold wrath. He listened, silently, to the vampire's whimpers and pained breath. The snow crunched under his boots, as he knelt again. "I will ask, one last time, where is Ivan Bragniski?"

The vampire was barely able to respond. "I-I do not know." That was all the response the hunter needed as he readied his primary blade. The vampire's red eyes widened. But it still had so much to say! "What, wait," it pleaded. It tried to scoot backwards, but the stiletto still embedded through its hand kept him from doing so.

Its eyes pleaded for mercy. "Please, I can tell you some of the rumors! I am not useless! Please don't—"

The hunter didn't even hesitate to swing his arm in a tight arc and send half of the vampire's head soaring into the air, only to plummet down a mere second later in a bloody heap. The other half of the vampire's face was lying on his skinned side, eyes still wide in terror.

The decapitated corpse remained in its half upright position before slumping back. The vampire's hand was yanked back and sliced in two by the blade still in it. The bloody body imprinted its shape into the snow, more blood spilling out.

The hunter was still for a moment, thinking his own silent thoughts. Nothing showed behind those violet eyes. The wind blew again; ruffling the corpse's torn clothes and torn skin. Bloody snow was picked up and swirled about. Some tiny pieces of skin were picked as well, but went less far up and away than the lighter bloody snow.

The hunter blinked, and then knelt to collect the vampire's blood and his fangs. He sheathed his primary blade back at his side and then used the stiletto to carve the fangs from the dead vampire's mouth. With a wet sucking sound and the sound of metal meeting the end of bone, the hunter held a medium-sized fang up to the moon.

"About a century," he assumed, "nothing less, give or take a few decades more." He pulled a clear vial from his black overcoat. His silver crucifix was jostled on its thin, silver chain, and its blood-red garnet stone glowed.

His expression didn't change, his eyes didn't flash with fear or shock, and his breathing didn't change. He just struck behind him, the stiletto meeting a vampire's chest with a meaty thump. He cast a look over his shoulder and saw the now-fully dead vampire's other hand with a new gouge through its palm.

The hunter stared at the corpse for a minute and then went back to his work. He didn't speed up his work, nor did he slow down. He acted as if nothing had just happened. But, to him, nothing did. He was still unharmed. Another vampire had met its rightful end. He was still in the same place as he was before he had taken the vampire's undead life—

Nowhere closer to finding his brother and celebrating their reunion by killing the vampire who did it: Ivan Bragniski.

He wanted to kill that bastard. Take the life of the malevolent being and the pure representation of the Devil in a vampire's skin. To be the one, who would rip open that bastard's throat and see how his blood would arc through the air and then spill across the floor, would be his ultimate goal.

He capped the vial, shaking it lightly between two of his pale fingers, and watched as the grey fangs and a few caught blue veins bounced in the ampule of crimson liquid life. He shook it to check its thickness and consistency.

If it swished too much, it was much too thin and the hunter could assume that the vampire was only that: a pathetic vampire who merely thought of himself as a God among the people it had killed in the nearby village.

If it swished too slowly, and was thick and sluggish, the hunter would know he was on the right track to realizing his goal. Thick and slow blood in a vampire was common of a demonic heritage.

Demonic heritage would allow a vampire to sustain more attacks because it took longer to bleed— therefore, it could fight more, with increased vigor as its blood loss did not hinder it as much.

The hunter shook the vial: it swished slowly and thickly, as if it was a ball underwater, trapped under pressure.

Violet eyes flashed dark, in interest, as the hunter stood. Could it be? Was he heading the right direction? To be sure, he now had to check the fangs. Even if the blood matched up, it could be a misleading factor as some vampires fed off stronger ones to gain more strength. To be sure he was going in the right direction; his hand grasped the silver crucifix. He pressed the vial to the garnet stone.

If the fangs darkened or glowed, then the fangs were just as effective in the hunter's goal was thin blood. Glowing or dark-grey fangs meant pure vampire heritage, and that the vampire had simply eaten off someone with demonic-vampire heritage recently.

However, if the fangs did not react to the silver or the garnet, then the fangs had genuine demon genes. Demons were unaffected by silver and vampires with this heritage were not affected by silver, in turn. The garnet would respond to vampires and demons alike, but it glowed in the face of vampires and hummed in the presence of demons.

The hunter pressed the vial to the crucifix: the fangs did not react but the garnet hummed deeply.

The hunter's eyes flashed once more, this time with recognition, as he stood from his crouch. He was indeed going in the right direction. Snatching his stiletto from the ground and shoving it in the special slot in his boot, he couldn't believe his luck. He looked at the vampire's corpse one last time, as he tucked the vial away to store in his bag later. "You gave me more answers in death, than you did in life, eh?"

Turning on his heel, quickly, the hunter put his hands into his pockets and walked away. He held his head high; unafraid of anything that would and could jump out into the night. Pushing his framed glasses higher up his nose, he then shoved his gloved hands into his pockets to warm themselves.

His pale face was still emotionless, but his violet eyes were going dark in his euphoric state of mind.

**He was one step closer to putting Ivan Bragniski in a grave and reuniting with his brother.**

—**xXx—**

**And thus, I end the prologue. **

**You guys don't know how much fun it was to write a Dark!Canada/Mathew~**

(Too much fun, actually…Hmm, I may be insane. Or I just may be just damn sadistic. :D)

I would also like to point out something. See the rating? Yeah, it says T, yeah. That is going to change, like, real-ly soon. So, don't expect this to be some kind of censored vampire-demon/murder/whatever the fuck else story.

No, this story is going to go M, real fast. I don't think this chapter needs to be M, just yet. Not enough happened in my opinion for it to be M…I could be mistaken, maybe some people find it M-worthy, but I don't think so right now.

Anyways, how did this chapter go? Love it, hate it, scared shitless for future events? Leave a comment in a review. Next update won't be a month away, guys, I promise. I hope to see you all again, soon.

—**xXx—**

**P.S:** Does anyone find it a bit creepy, that I finished writing this at exactly midnight…?

**._.**

I really hope I'm not going to see the outcome of that later…


	2. Plans

**Eternal Damnation**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** It is time to see where your loyalties lie. It is time to see if you are strong enough to resist temptation. It is time to see if you would survive at all. America x Vampire!Russia

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

Author Alerts: Animaegan, xXBlackPhantomXx, Leylani-sama, BishieHunterReno, sabacat,

Story alert/ Favorites: **telemarker, summer164, Ashcola17, NiRvAnAaDvAnCiNg95, The Vampire Alchemist, Perfect1Up, Superkitty140, MikkiHasACookieForYou, emismpunk, Animateia, Kaylm Iditra, True Blue Chan, Hottie Star, Animaegan, lheydechaos, wolfspeaker01, Japanese Sinister, Rainy-Ray-Rachel, Leylani-sama, BishieHunterReno, the-one-with-the-face94, ninjacat99, Fireshadow242, SasuNaruXSasodei, doubleyouachwhyayoheye**

Reviewer(s)!: **Ashcola17, NiRvAnAaDvAnCiNg95, Nana, emismpunk, Japanese Sinister, Leylani-sama, BishieHunterReno, **

Ashcola17: I'm sorry I was so late, Germany tried to make me play outside. ^_^ It was fun~

M-my muffins got cold? Fuck the muffins, I gots cheesecake! YES! I love cheesecake, I'm such a fatty when it comes to sweets. I'm glad you liked dark!Mathew, there's more where that come from. I can guarantee you that. And you're right, killing Ivan (not saying he will or anything) will not be easy. Getting to the guy's castle is going to take some work. Let me tell you-*goes off in ghetto chick hair salon rant*

And was that a please I just saw? Mm-mm, good, an author's favorite drug-of-choice.

NiRvAnAaDvAnCiNg95: Don't stay up too late, dear. That's not good for your health and I shal continue. (I have too many dreams about this fanfict haunting me…)

Nana: Yes, blame Ivan, not me. *scoffs* I'm off to kill Arthur again, Kolkolkolkol ~ (Have no fear, another SpaMano and GerIta fan is here! O_O Holy shit, that rhymed…But seriously, those guys are coming back- like real soon.)

The Vampire Alchemist: One thing to say: Do not go to anyone of Ivan's manor and say your username. You will be shot. That is all. XD (That's an epic username, by the way.)

emismpunk: Thanks, and I hope this update didn't seem to take too long to come out. Hope you enjoy it!

Japanese Sinister: Dark!Canada kicks ass, simple as that. XD I hope you can sustain the insanity to come from this sequel. (And you know what…I don't think I have even half as much of a soul as I should when I write this dark fictions…Hm. :/)

Leylani-sama: Why, thank you. And I like Canada, it was kind of cold where I was, seeing as it was going into winter, but still, I liked my visit. You all were very kind.

BishieHunterReno: I'm glad you enjoyed the last story and I do hope you enjoy this one!

SasuNaruXSasodei: Yesss! Another SasorixDeidara fan! :DD

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**Omigod, I can't believe the attention this story is getting!**

**I thought I was the only one who wanted to smash Bella's fantasy of glittery vampires into itty-bitty pieces and put vampires back as the savage-kickass monsters of the night they are and…**

**I'm rambling *bows in apology* **

**Enjoy the dark!Alfred and slight angst this chappie!**

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**|.:Chapter One:.|**

_Plans_

_**[Alfred]**_

The re-embodiment of the Red King sat at his dinner table, violet eyes facing down the long wooden counter. Smooth cherry wooden with blood-red tablecloth. On the table sat elaborately carved crystal glasses with impeccable rare bone china plates and dishes. With the dishes, came only the finest select of human meat and only the best blood.

Ivan sipped from his crystal glass, and tried to decipher the seemingly mindless chatter that ran from Alfred's lips. "Alfred, dear," he began, as he made a cut through a piece of meat on his plate. Alfred blinked, and looked up, "Huh?"

"You do realize all of us here have no idea what you're talking about, right?" He said, and then he bit into a soft slice of meat. His taste buds recognized it as the inner walls of a heart, and he smiled. His chefs knew him so well.

Alfred, however, seemed shocked, as he said, "No way!" The blue-eyed demon turned to the person who sat next to him. Oddly enough, it was Francis. "Francis, you understood me, right?"

Francis chewed the piece of soft flesh in his mouth, before replying, "Ah…no." He smiled, weakly. "You lost me when you started going on about catapults to attack ninja flying monkeys…"

Alfred huffed, as he turned back in his seat, trying to pretend he couldn't see Ivan's smirk. "They were chimpanzee, dudes, not monkeys. Chimps are way cooler." Francis's face depicted his confusion. "How do you know what a chimp is?"

Alfred ignored the comment, and instead, shoved another piece of meat in his mouth. His cheeks tinted slightly at Ivan's giggle. He made a low growl in his throat and a few at the table paused, as some few winced. Alfred may have been younger than most of them, when he turned, but he was a child of Ivan's. Not only that, but the young demon had more than enough strength to stand his own ground.

It was a little while longer, before Alfred finished his second helping and decided he was finally done eating. Then, he stood and after telling Ivan he would be outside in the courtyard, he left the room.

The way to the courtyard wasn't long, but Alfred had more than enough things to think about. All of his thoughts centered on one certain point:

Mathew Fletcher, or as Ivan's spies had found out: Mathew Williams.

His face darkened, as he came to a stop. He recalled being outside the door, when a spy told Ivan the news. Mathew was a hunter. Not just any hunter, his killings seemed to center on beings with traces of demonic blood in them. Mathew was tracking something.

_Someone_, Alfred realized as he came to an ornate patio. He felt the night breeze lift his hair to run its airy fingers through it. Blue eyes flashed dark, and then he was walking once more. Shaking his head, he tried to think of a way to put Mathew off of him.

He knew his brother better than anyone else. His twin brother was tracking him. Alfred had felt the eyes on him, at night, when he thought he was alone. That's why he came to the courtyard. He had claimed it as his own space to think and try to plan. That's what he was going to do, tonight.

Alfred walked through the dark grass, moving to the small circle when the taller strands brushed against his waist. He sat down amongst them and, for a while, he just sat there. He stared at the small white round pebbles rimming the little pond. He saw his reflection look back at him.

His hair was longer than it had been when he had last seen his brother, about nearly a decade ago. He had left at age nineteen, at the next winter, on the full moon, it would be official. He would have been without his brother for a full ten years. Mathew would have been hunting him for ten years. Alfred would have been deterring his brother and hiding himself and Ivan for a full ten years.

He planned to keep doing so. He knew his brother. Mathew would want to kill Ivan for turning him. He would have found out about Arthur's demise or that all of the old master's children belonged to Ivan. That nearly all of them were a new and elite class of demons, with Ivan as their head. Alfred was divine mate, and if Mathew wanted to take him, he would have to kill a lot of vampires before even getting to the lowest demon.

It wouldn't be easy. But if Mathew had kept up his pursuit for ten years, Alfred doubted that the other was going to drop his efforts just because he would have to fight a few hundreds of minions. Mathew would see it as he was getting just that much closer.

Alfred bit his lip, softly. He had pulled a few strings of his own to direct a lone vampire-demon into the outskirts of Ivan's domain and send him off to Gilbert, the one who had killed Arthur, domain. The other ruler, the demon-vampire, was very much weaker than Alfred. He had vampire blood, all of Alfred's had been taken by Ivan on the night he was Turned.

If Alfred wanted to kill Gilbert, it wouldn't take him much. He could leave right that minute and kill everyone in the manor and come back to Ivan, covered in their blood and none of his own. But he didn't.

He would need their help. Mathew was going to find out, eventually, that he had been fooled into going into Gilbert's domain when he found fewer beings with demonic blood. Alfred was going to need a plan to keep Mathew off his whereabouts longer. He couldn't go to Ivan. The Russian male would want to just simply kill Mathew and Alfred didn't want that.

As much as he didn't want Mathew to find him, and try to kill Ivan and take him from the happiness he had, he wanted Mathew to live. He wanted his brother alive, so he could finally go and find a happiness of his own.

Alfred brought his knees to his chest, holding his head with his hands, and trying to think. What could he do? What should he do? What if this didn't work? What if that made things worse? Would Ivan find out? Would he be mad? Would Mathew find an easier way to him? Would he still be torn away?

He frowned, as an idea came to him. Gilbert was weaker than him, in terms of strength. But Gilbert was smarter, he had been alive longer, and he had children. Gilbert had children that could aid him, in his favor.

He could have Gilbert help him. The Prussian was good at throwing off people. Up until his attack on Arthur's manor, Alfred had found that everyone had believed the Prussian man to have died when his original kingdom was disbanded and all of his original hundreds of children scattered and killed.

Alfred nodded to himself, as he thought a bit more. What would he say?

**Yes, Gilbert, because I'm stronger than you and my mate would love to rip out your throat, just for the Hell of it, I can make you help me. **

_Yeah_, he thought sarcastically. _That would so work to get me the help I need._ He thought a bit more, brow furrowing. He was about to turn in for the night, when he heard rustling. He was on his feet in an instant, blue eyes darkening to a deep sapphire with an underlying red tone.

The grasses shifted and Alfred saw someone's form start to rise. The water was already rippling and Alfred was standing stock still. His eyes were getting even darker, his skin paler, and his fangs showing menacingly.

The form stumbled and then gasped. Alfred heard them choke before falling to their knees. Some features were clear enough for Alfred to make assumptions: Short body, they could be young. They had short hair, not so much help in distinguishing gender. They were breathing, so they were probably alive and not some zombie.

Alfred took a hesitant step closer, and his eyes widened. It was a little blonde girl, with puffy green eyes. She was, indeed, short, barely up to his chest. But she had a sense of confidence in the background of her pain that made him think she was making up for her short stature. She would have been prettier…had it not been for the dried blood and tears on her cheeks, her green uniform was torn and red, and her boots looked like they had seen a war and then a great fire.

She took heaving breaths before saying, "You…are Alfred, correct?" Alfred's eyes lightened up a bit, as he nodded. What was this girl doing here, on Ivan's manor? How did she know his name?

The girl's eyes brimmed and she began to cry. She didn't look anymore than fifteen. "Please," she begged. "You have to help me. Someone broke into my dad's sire's manor." Alfred frowned.

"Who is your dad?" Alfred demanded, but the little girl shook her head. Red and black flicked off the tips of her short blonde hair. The purple ribbon in her hair was so close to ruin, it was a wonder it was still holding itself together as charred shreds. She didn't answer his question, but continued, "The man told me to fetch you."

Alfred didn't have time for this. He made a move to get closer to the girl, just to look inside her head, when he reached out and flinched. His voice choked him from inside his throat.

—**xXx—**

_The little girl was torn from another blonde, lying still in a ruined brick wall. It looked like a demolished kitchen, fire and oil were everywhere and the little girl was trying to rouse the blonde body beside her, pleading in some language._

_She was suddenly yanked by the back of her collar, and the body on the burning floor twitched, and the girl screamed. She was kicking and screaming, swearing in more than three languages. Two of them Alfred placed as German and accented English._

"_Go to Ivan Bragniski's manor, brat," a dark figure commanded as a sharp blade was brought to her throat. She was breathing quickly. "And fetch Alfred F. Jones." The figure tapped the silver tip to her skin. It didn't harm her, other than the slight cuts she was taking to her chin. She is not affected by holy silver, they noticed. _

_The figure continued, "If you don't return within three days, you can kiss your friend here good-bye."_

_The little girl looked back at the form; saw how weakly their chest rose and fell, and how much red covered their uniform than the green fabric. Blonde hair was so caked with dirt and plaster; it nearly appeared as if someone had dusted their head with salt and pepper._

"_Well?" The figure asked. Their violet eyes were dark and threatening. The little girl whimpered, "I-I'll do it," she agreed, but then she grew bold and said, "Just keep everyone alive." The figure's face was impassive as they threw her down, harshly, and she grunted as her back collided with a hot and broken stove. _

"_You have five minutes to get started," the figure said, sharply, "Or I start deducting hairs off of their heads." He flicked the blade across the lying form's head was emphasis, making her wince as she saw a single blonde hair was sliced thinly down the middle and cast aside._

_Twhe little girl scrambled to stand, red oozing down her forehead as her legs wavered. She shook her head to clear it, squeezed the fallen blonde's hand and then ran to complete her mission._

—**xXx—**

Alfred pulled his hand back and saw the little girl was lying on the ground, barely conscious as her breathing wore ragged. It wasn't because he had reached into her mind— it was because she was weak.

He swore as he ducked to his knees. She had a pulse, but it was faint. She was exhausted, under severe trauma and stress, not to mention wounded. The wound on her head looked infected.

Alfred was counting his blessings that Ivan had multiple medical personnel, ones that still remembered how to treat humans. _The girl was human_, he noticed, _her mind was easy to look through. _

Just as he picked her up and off the ground, he took off for the manor. He was admist, trying to sniff out someone who smelt like medicine when a voice said, "Lilli…?"

It was Natasha.

Alfred held the girl closer, but upon seeing how distressed the blonde demon was reacting to seeing the bloodied girl, he began to relent in his grip. "Can…you help her?" He asked, nearly pleaded. "She came from out of the grass."

Natasha walked, slowly at first. But, then she was trying to break into a run, in order to get to Lilli faster. "Lilli!" She called, startling Alfred with how upset she sounded. "Lilli, little baby," she shouted, as she came closer. Her breath seized in, as the full scent of Lilli's blood hit her senses. Her pale blue eyes widened and then flashed. "Lilli…?"

Lilli coughed in Alfred's arms, and something wet stuck to his shirt. Both of the older blondes looked down at Alfred's shirt. Natasha held a hand over her mouth, looking away for a moment to compose her mind and senses, as Alfred gagged. It was a bloody glop with traces of ash and internal tissue. Lilli had blood streaming down her chin, fresh blood.

Natasha asked, albeit tenderly with how husky her voice had become with bloodlust. "L-Lilli, can you hear me, darling?" She crept closer to Alfred, despite her dislike for him most days, and leaned in to get a better view of her beloved Lilli's face.

Lilli's green eyes were growing darker, but she was still able to see clearly enough to recognize Natasha. Despite how young she had been when Natasha had left Gilbert's manor. "M-miss Natta? I-is that r-really you?"

Natasha looked ready to cry, but at the same time, throw boulders around in frustration. "Da, yes, dear, it is me. You are safe, now. I've got you, now," she promised, and gently, lifted Lilli from Alfred's arms. She turned to look at Alfred, "Thank you, Alfred. I shall take care of her, from here on out."

Alfred nodded as he watched the slim blonde female demon order medical personnel to her presence and then kicking them in the direction of a free room that was close to her own bedroom. It was none too gently, Alfred noticed with slight humor, that Natasha was shoving and kicking personnel in the directions of equipment for surgery and then for the room next to hers to be made up for Lilli.

Alfred watched, ignoring the tempting and alluring smell of blood on his shirt and floating through the hallways, from Lilli. He knew she was in good hands, Natasha seemed truly attached to the young girl. She would make sure she was taken care of and that every one of her needs were attended to with only the best and upmost care.

But…something was off. Lilli had come in, wounded and exhausted, to fetch him. Her memories weren't much of a help in pinpointing the location of her manor. But Natasha's recognition of her was. Lilli was a human girl from Gilbert's manor.

Gilbert had been invaded.

Gilbert's manor was a good three days distance, on foot, from Ivan's. That was with another demon running the whole distance. Alfred had no idea how long Lilli had been running. The figure in her memories said three days. Had it been three days, since she had left? If not, how much time was left?

Could they even help Gilbert and his manor at all?

Alfred bit his lip, but right as he was about to leave the room, Natasha called out to him. "Where did you find my Lilli?" Alfred paused, and then pointed to the open door. "She came through the grass. I checked her mind, her house had been attacked before she had come here."

Natasha frowned, "Gilbert had been attacked?" Her face darkened, "Lilli was that hurt? Where is everyone else?" Alfred shook his head, "She was the only one who came." Natasha's eyes widened and then narrowed sharply. She ran up to Alfred, "You are leaving for Gilbert's manor, aren't you?"

He nodded, and Natasha said, "Take me with you. I want to know who harmed Lilli. Her father must be either be dead or very well dying, locked away somewhere, if she was hurt that badly." Alfred felt his stomach move in unease, as Natasha continued, as if talking quietly to only herself. "He never let her fight in the front lines. She was trained to stay hidden and use guerilla tactics. She uses long-range weapons and spy tricks to remain out of sight and out of harm's way…"

Natasha looked up at him, "That's it, I'm going with you. If Vash is dead, and right now, that is a likely assumption from her condition, then she has no other family." Alfred nodded, but he inwardly frowned as a particular image from her mind came back to him.

Lilli had caught a look at the figure's face, through the smoke and fires. The figure had been male, with strange violet eyes.

_Violet eyes_, he realized with a sudden shudder. He recognized them. They were Mathew's…but at the same time, not his at all. Between when Mathew had left, and how he was now, something had changed. Mathew wasn't the same human Mathew that Alfred had seen before he had left.

**Mathew had become something else.**

—**xXx—**

**Some delicious plot~**

Anyways, how did this chapter go? Love it, hate it, scared shitless for future events? Leave a comment in a review. Next update won't be a month away, guys, I promise. I hope to see you all again, soon.

—**xXx—**


	3. Black Sheep

**Eternal Damnation**

**Rating: **M (Not for smut, I repeat, NOT FOR SMUT)

**Summary:** It is time to see where your loyalties lie. It is time to see if you are strong enough to resist temptation. It is time to see if you would survive at all. America x Vampire!Russia

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

Story alert/ Favorites: ** Broken Andy, milesae19, Foxy Thief, Jetfires girl, MssBiPolar, Moongirl12121, the-one-with-the-face94, KayKayItaly, Vash1300**

Reviewer(s)!: **Ashcola17, Come hither updates (XD), emismpunk, Leylani-sama, Japanese Sinister , SasuNaruXSasoDei, Animaegan, Moongirl12121**

Ashcola17: I know of sin cake. It's worth the diet sin. Fuck the sugar and carbs. Thank you, but you are right. You have not seen the true extent of Alfred's darkness. You should be scared, Mathew and Alfred in the same room…yeah, not good. You will see Ivan soon~

Come hither updates: First off, that name is fucking HILARIOUS. Second, I'm glad you like where the story seems to be headed. The RussAme smut should come eventually, don't expect a lot of it.

Broken Andy: I hope you get better, Andy. I hope this update makes you feel better. D:

emismpunk: I imagine not well. How would you feel? Now, make that 10x worse and add some drama and yelling and maybe some make-up. That's Ivan's reaction.

Leylani-sama: I hope I taste good, too…And yes, Arthur is dead. *cough* Physically *cough* I might make Mathew the bad one…I might not. And what the world? Zombie!Arthur. No, but you're really close.

You will find out more about Natasha's and Sofia's leaving and joining Ivan's manor as the story continues. We have a lot to go. Ivan didn't crush Gilbert for a number of reasons you will find later.

Japanese Sinister: I'm glad you're excited. But no, no one can blame you. (Well, you can blame my alternate ego who is a fucking sadist. She has a surprise for you all…Dark!Canada just got worse…)

SasuNaruXSasoDei: Yay! Another stalker! Again, I must prescribe Russia's opinion on obsession. Obsession can lead to insanity. Insanity leads to addiction, addiction leads to being locked in a little white room and hearing the voices of England's imaginary friends. (England: "They're bloody REAL!")

Sure, England, sure they are….that's why we can't see any of them…*inches away quietly*

Animaegan: It shall not be Ivan versus Mathew for a little while longer. But the Alfred versus Mathew. That will be soon.

Moongirl12121: I'm glad you liked dark!Canada. Everyone seems to like him when he's dark…lolz. (2) You should be scared shitless. Mathew has a few agents working in his favor, and he's going to use them all to his advantage.

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**I am so sorry, guys, that this is so late! DX I had a health issue in which my seizures decided to check up on me and leave me in bed, doped out of my mind. It sucked ass. I somehow got the idea was Marilyn, even though my name starts with a B…**

**ANYWAYS, I'm better now, but my inner German-sadist decided to rear her damn head. You all now have to deal with the shit she writes. **

**Good luck.**

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**|.:Chapter Two:.|**

_Black Sheep_

_**[Mathew]**_

The hunter was smiling, sitting atop of a broken marble pillar. Face flat, but a sinister smile pulling slightly at the corners of his mouth. Violet eyes were growing dark with the setting sun, the shadows darting across his face, mirth flickering in his eyes.

He had given the little blonde girl three days. It was now four days. She had missed the deadline. Either she had gotten lost, died on the way, or she was unconscious in some family's house.

_Ah well_, he thought, as he turned to see the small group of vampire-demons that he had purposely left alive. The female was half slumped over, unconscious, on the white haired one he had found to be named Gilbert. A brown haired male was leaning against the wall, with another blonde male using a bloody and snapped gun to hold himself upright beside him.

"It's almost sun set," the hunter said, flatly. A part of him, that small voice in his head that had sounded familiar, was grinning. His hand unconsciously went to the thin blade in his lap. He sent his fingers carefully over it. He was careful not to cut himself, whilst still getting to vaguely feel the blade's sharp edge.

He turned to the group, "Where is your little girl, Gilbert?" He awaited a reaction, and he got one.

The female remained motionless, still unconscious. He has been slightly impressed he had survived at all. Not too many people could survive a hard slash to the middle, only to take a plummet through several floors to land on rumble, when they are kicked over an indoor balcony.

Her lip was split; her hair was sheared to nearly her ears from when she had been attacked from behind but lucky enough to duck at the feeling of her neck meeting air. The tips of her cut hair had singes on them. She held an arm to her chest, the blood soaking her chest. She had been wearing a dress at the time of his attack, but needless to say she hadn't let it hinder her performance in battle. The sleeves were ripped and torn, bloody and barely there at all. The bottom of her dress was covered with ash, dust, and even more chars.

She was also missing a few fingers. Burns were scattered across her exposed skin from the fire. She had been one of the first higher members of the household to fall under the hunter's blade, only a few tear streaks down her face. But, she had put up quite a fight, despite having taken quite a beating as well.

The brown haired one went stiff, violet eyes growing dark, under the burn seeming to spread across his face. He had been the poor fighter of the group. He had tried fighting and only managed to get more wounds than actual attacks. His head was probably still bleeding, his eye was swollen under his cracked glasses and he still had a hand pressed against his side. His neck was barely healing over the open slice through his shoulder. The fact that he was alive was because of Gilbert and the blonde male.

Said blonde male was glaring at the ground. His hair was mused wildly, his face scratched and bloody. He had taken off his shirt, revealing the colorful array of bruises and blood. The blood that was still wet, you saw muscle twitch at the contact of air or anything else. However, where the blood was dry, you saw muscle riddled with slices and bullet wounds and the glimpse of bone. Half of his ear was gone, thanks to a bullet the hunter had reflected off his blade. His leg was bleeding towards the thigh, blood soaking through and melding with the blood on the rest of his leg.

He had taken a slash up his leg, and was probably still missing the top layer of his leg. Tendons exposed, pink and bleeding heavily, and a glimpse of bone whenever the muscle relaxed or tightened. But where the openness of his leg stopped, a deadly burn began and was reaching up to wrap around the base of his abdomen. At some point in time, he had torn part of his shirt to wrap it, but the soiled fabric wasn't much good.

Gilbert was possibly the best off, and the worst off. His hair was originally white, but there were more than one patch of stark red from the number of times the hunter had slashed at him or the ceiling had given away and a chunk dropped on him.

His cheek was bruised, and the gash from where you could see the skeleton of his teeth was open to the air. White and yellowish pus was starting to gather at the far edges where you could see darkened skin curling up to peel away. Burns extended past the darkly scorched skin. His ear had a hole from a reflected bullet, along with a string of bullet wounds starting from his shoulder to his hip.

His throat barely seemed to work against the frontal slash over the skin, barely an inch away from his windpipe. His shirt was torn from his shoulder, exposing his bullet wounds, dark bruises kissed over each one. One of his arms was barely hanging on, the bone visible in the wrist clearly. His fingers were skinned to the tissue on some, bone nubs on others. There was slash over his eye, blood creating a mask against his pale skin. His red eyes were half-lidded and promised vengeance, under the blood.

He had taken the longest to show up, but he had a few blade wounds. There was a slash through his shoulder that just barely stopped at his collar, and a deep stab in his lower abdomen. Occasionally, he would spit at the ground to the brown haired one would look away from the growing dark red splotches.

"She's late," the hunter continued. He kicked his foot out a bit, the blonde eying it with suspicion. The hunter let out a silent sigh, as he finally stood. The sun finally fully set behind him. He was shaking his head, sadly, as he brandished his blade proudly before pointing the tip to the ground and engraving a harshly written XM.

With a quick swipe across the ground to finish it, he looked back at the window to the seemingly endless dark lea. The reflection of the burned and half demolished castle looked back at him in the silver brook. He nearly felt a bit of a hint of his childhood come through—

**-xxx-**

"_Ivan!" A teary-eyed blonde boy ran to a larger blonde. Violet eyes met, one having to look down while the other had to tilt his head back to fully look up at the other. The little boy sniffled, cheeks and eyes red from crying._

_The large male's eyes warmed with concern, "What is wrong, Matvey?" The little boy sniffled, and held up his arms to be picked up. Ivan smiled gently and raised the children into his arms. The little boy seldom got attention from others, but unfortunately he was steadily getting hurt. The Russian was pretty much the only one to notice the boy beside his hyperactive and sly older brother._

"_I-I was playing by the cr-creek," the little boy stammered, trying to wiping his eyes with grimy hands. But he was stopped, as a napkin was chosen to wipe them instead. The little boy let it happen, a smile starting to form._

"_Da, yes," Ivan replied, as he tucked the napkin away when it was no longer needed. "And what happened?" He shifted the little boy in his arms to better make him more comfortable. Said little boy whimpers, "Oh r-right, there was this little f-fox there."_

_Ivan raised a brow, immediately concerned, "A fox?" The little boy nodded, "He scratched me up, and because I tried to save the little chipmunk he was playing with." Ivan frowned, suddenly noticing how light the scratches were, but seeing the worryingly red marks on his wrist. He had barely escaping being bitten. He must have come across a young or old or particularly merciful one._

_Ivan sighed, "Little Matvey, you mustn't trust every animal you see." The little boy looked up at that, "Why not?" Ivan thought about it, "Well, some animals don't take too lightly to being messed with."_

_The little boy put a grimy finger to his lips, to Ivan's huff of irritation, as Ivan hurriedly took his hands and tried to wipe them clean with the same napkin from earlier. "Don't put dirty things to your mouth," Ivan chided. The little boy smiled, "Okay!"_

_Ivan smiled, as they walked back towards the house, from the courtyard, to tend to the little boy's skirmish with the fox. The little boy talked, a bit quietly, but Ivan didn't mind it. He adored the little boy and his loud brother. Some days, he favored being with the quieter one of the two. He would watch, undetected, to see just how the little boy perceived the world while he thought he was being ignored by those around him._

**-xxx-**

The hunter's grip on the handle of his blade tightened. In the depths of his eyes, something flashed dark and a tiny dot of emerald that was hardly noticeable. The brown haired male stiffened upon the sight, he could see the dark aura just hanging over the hunter's head. It was an aura so thick, it hung heavy on the air.

The blonde male grunted, trying to lift his head, while Gilbert pulled the unconscious woman to him. The blonde growled, "Leave …us alone, you've done—" A hack and then a spot of red splattered to his dirty pants. "Enough," he finished, around a gasp. "You've done…enough!"

Gilbert eyed the hunter flatly, but a heavy tension was coming over the head vampire's side of the room. The hunter looked back, steadily, his gaze not breaking with the others but to blink. But then, the hunter had a dark expression on his face.

It was menacing, it was merciless, and it was pure malice. "I despise people like you," he spat out, "Gilbert. Your kind makes me sick." Gilbert didn't react, he just continued to stare. The air was growing heavier. "You play with people like toys and then cast them aside when you've had your fill."

Once more, Gilbert didn't react.

The hunter grinned, but what this sinister grin revealed sharp-edged teeth. Violet eyes sparkled with a dark delight and mirth. "But I'm going to take pleasure in fulfilling my promise to the little girl." He twirled the blade between his fingers. He chuckled, "I'll give you something to listen to while I cease your existence."

Gilbert didn't move, but something in his eyes darkened, as his hold on the unconscious woman tightening. The brown haired male stiffened even more, trying to inch farther into the one. The blonde glared, as he pushed against his broken gun to push himself farther up. But whereas, when the brown haired one tried to help him up, he growled and snapped at him.

"Baa-baa, black sheep," the hunter said. His tone was dark, but somehow light with a sinister dark undertone. He was still grinning, but the smirk promised pain and a lot of it. "Have you any wool?"

No one saw it coming.

Especially not the blonde, as red arched high from his shoulder. The hunter let out a harsh laugh, as the brown male jumped and found himself getting his arm sliced upwards in his attempt to receive the slowly bleeding out blonde male. His green eyes were bright, but his mouth was oozing blood like a waterfall spills at its mouth. "Yes sir, yes sir!" The hunter beamed as the blonde male slumped to the ground. His face collided with the floor loudly. The hunter was spinning on his heel, with the blade catching on three different strands of hair from the beings at his mercy, "Three bags full."

"One for the master," the hunter chirped, as his blade swiped across the brown haired one's face and made his head snap hard on the stone wall behind him. His eyes blinked, as he let out a scream, gripping his face as rivulets of blood spilling from his fingers.

Gilbert was kicked aside, the woman in his arms slightly stirring, and the hunter grinned down at the brown haired male looking up at him with only one horrified eye. "You tore my face!" The male cried, and then he began to sob, but he was unable to move, finding a hand on his midsection.

He pulled his hand away, and truth be told, a large slice of flesh hung limply from his face, exposing the top of his jaw and the remaining cartilage over where his nose once was. His eyes rose to meet the hunter's—

He did it just in time, to feel the full impact of a boot connecting painfully with his jaw. A sharp snap was heard, right before the wall made a loud crack as his head made contact. The final sound being the thud when his form slumped over the blonde's male's collapsed body.

The hunter grinned at Gilbert, and said, "One for the dame." Right before he made a sudden stab through the woman's middle. Gilbert jumped, blood coming forth form his mouth and nose, at his sudden movement. The woman's green eyes snapped open, her mouth agape in a silent scream, before red poured forth from her mouth. She made a small whimper, and then coughed, before simply sliding out of the blade's reach as she rolled out of Gilbert's lap to the bloody stone floor.

Gilbert stared at the scene before him. The female was laying still, the blonde's chest barely rising, and the brown haired one's eyes still full of terror. Red decorated of them. It was just a stark contrast against the sickly yellows and blues, and dark bruises. Glimpses of bones, tissues and muscles, he was given a view of everything. He was saved for last.

"And one for the motherfucking little boy," the hunter snarled, readying his blade, as he pressed his booted heel against Gilbert's wounded throat. He continued, "Who lives down the lane from Ivan Bragniski."

**The blade came down and Gilbert shut his eyes.**

—**xXx—**

The hunter walked out of the demolished manor, chancing a look behind him to stare at what he had done. Burned and broken stone littered the ground; blood was stained on seemingly every floor. The bodies of servants and dead humans decorating the room, and giving it a smell of death as the bodies slowly decayed.

The hunter shrugged slightly, not feeling anything other than a sense of disappoint. A small part of him had really hoped that the little girl would actually make it to Alfred. He had really hoped to finally see his brother. Alas, he was disappointed. But it was nothing new, he was getting used to disappointments.

He walked in the direction of the brook he had seen from upstairs, within the castle. He walked up to it, face dark but without expression, as his reflection finally came into view. Well that is, until _his_ reflection came in as well.

"It is alright, Mathew," the green-eyed figure said, "Ivan can only hold Alfred for so long." The hunter didn't respond. He only bent at the knees to better see the other's face. His image looked much better than he had than the last time they had talked. Mathew had a sneaking suspicion it was because he had attacked Gilbert's manor, the place where the other died.

He also had a sneaking suspicion he was being used…

"Mathew?" The figure said, and Mathew blinked, eyes starting to regain a lighter shade of violet. For a split second, one could almost see the pure hint of blue in their depths. It was the last remnant of his innocence, since the other had come to him. Mathew had been the last one the other could shadow. All of his other children had been tore from him. They all now obeyed under the command of their Red King.

"We should turn north, at the woodlands," the green-eyed reflection said, his image turning to the woods gathering in front of the ruined manor. "I think the demon blood should grow thicker there. There is not enough here; Ivan must have given Gilbert more territory to pacify him for all of his complaining." The reflection's image rippled, "Spoiled brat."

Mathew had tired to rid himself of everything that he could relate to Ivan. Everything, his little polar bear he slaughtered with the sharpest butcher knife he could find. He cut his hair, and instead of the white that he remembered Ivan said complimenting him, he wore all black. He grew a hatred for vampires and demons. He grew distrust for foreigners, specifically Russians, since Ivan had taken Alfred from him.

The only remnant he had from Ivan was the old and worn leather band of a snowflake, a sunflower and a little bear. The images were starting to chip away, but he still held on to it. He only kept it for memories of Alfred. His brother didn't keep much, mostly holding to the things Ivan had left with them. That was the only reason he kept it: Alfred. Otherwise, it would have been one of the first things to burn.

"So," Mathew asked the reflection, "We go north at the woods? What about afterwards?" The reflection paused, and stared at him for a while. Then he said, "We shall discuss it when the situation arises. The woods are very thick, and may take several days to comb through at best. Gilbert used to use that thickness to his advantage."

Mathew nodded, and then sighed, "I got the hairs like you told me to." He held up the said hairs, a light brown from the woman, a blonde, a dark brown one from the male, and Gilbert's signature snow white strand of hair.

The reflection grinned, "Good. Tie them altogether in a knot and toss it in the river." Mathew nodded, silently, not asking why the other wanted them in the first place or why he had to toss them in a river in the first place. He had learned his lesson for asking too many questions. The other had become really skilled at digging up things Mathew would rather forget. Things he never wanted to relive ever again.

But that wasn't the worst part: if Arthur thought the other was being particularly prying, he twisted the good memories into things that could be on the same level as some of his nightmares.

Mathew knotted the hairs together, and then he submerged the multi colored hairs underneath the cool water. He watched them float away. He could almost feel a memory coming up, as he saw the moon reflect across the silver brook. Then, Arthur said, "We should get moving on our way, Mathew. Demons are not restricted to the night. If you are caught, you are as good as bloody dead."

Mathew said nothing, only rose on his knees. But a sharp pain caused him to hiss in a breath, as he looked back at the brook. Arthur stared flatly at him, the same look that Mathew wore when he was with someone the other told him to kill. It was a look that showed nothing, and yet promised pain.

"Don't turn your back on me," Arthur snarled, "I will see to it, you never have a chance to think of ever doing it again." Mathew nodded, and felt a slight shift in the wind, as the reflection ripped and he saw his own image look back at him. His eyes were dark once more. He could feel the alien emotions swirling within more. It was both familiar and yet a stranger.

**He wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible.**

—**xXx—**

Whoa…This is why my inner sadist is rarely seen. That bitch needs help. Oh yeah, before I forget, please note guys: I DID NOT PLACE A WARNING FOR **CHARACTER DEATH**…yet.

So yeah, how did you all like this update? I know it's pretty gruesome, but I'm hoping to find a way to get the scene with Ivan and Alfred over with. It's kicking my ass in the worst way…No, seriously. Whenever I try to type it, it goes, "Yeah…NO." then, it decides not to comply.

Which sucks…

So, I apologize for all the worry and trouble I've brought you all. *bows in apology* If you love me, please read and review. Also, I would really appreciate it if you all would vote on my poll on my profile. Please and danke, I apologize for this late update.

—**xXx—**


	4. Rightful Claim

**Eternal Damnation**

**Rating: **M

**Summary:** It is time to see where your loyalties lie. It is time to see if you are strong enough to resist temptation. It is time to see if you would survive at all. America x Vampire!Russia

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

Author Alert: Ashcola17, XOTAKUNationXpro, TobiTheNinjaKitten, XxXShikiandRimaXxX

Story alert/ Favorites: ** xXBlackPhantomXx, XOTAKUNationXpro, TobiTheNinjaKitten, DanieSora, XxXShikiandRimaXxX, GilbirdAttack, ChildofStorms**

Reviewer(s)!: **Nana(2), xXBlackPhantomXx, TheRussianRose, onenightstandwithgrell, Prussian Sinister, Ashcola17, Animaegan, Leylani-sama, TobiTheNinjaKitten, DanieSora**

Nana: This is totally late, but thank you for reviewing, but I doubt talking to Mattie right now will work too well…But have no fear! Alfred the hero is going to make this new update appear! (2) I'm showing glimpses at Arthur's plan this chapter. But…I can tell you right now, the reunion won't be at all pretty.

xXBlackPhantomXx: You're not the only one, everyone likes dark!Canada. X)

TheRussianRose: *breathes* Oh my Gott…you...Breathe, I must. Thank you for your concern about my health, I'm much better now. I won't have anything on you but I'll try on the Ivan/Alfred scene as best I can. (Oh my Gott, you reviewed for me…)

onenightstandwithgrell: Thank you and it's been corrected.

Prussian Sinister: I'm glad our sadists have so much in common…you will never see her again, if I can help it. And no, they're alive…sort of, if they get help in time. XP (Yes, Mathew took out the bear.)

Ashcola17: D: No…sweets? WHAT THE HELL? No! Bu I'm fine, now! DX I did say Mathew was going to get really dark. And yes, those are Arthur's fangs, and unfortunately, he is BACK. Gilbert is a zombie.

Animaegan: Yeah! I help people by letting my inner sadist off her chain! :D (o_o Okay then, that must have been awkward…)

Leylani-sama: Yes, Mathew is kickass in this story! Arthur has his motives and goals, and using Mattie is just a means to get them. You forget that Arthur was an old vampire, and that it's been ten years.

TobiTheNinjaKitten: Dark!Canada is badass. And don't worry, Alfred is safe…for now.

DanieSora: LOL, I can't really blame you. When a fict goes from T to M, most would think smut. LOL, aren't I just the best damn tease you have ever seen?

GilbirdAttack: Another epic attack by the most awesome bird in existence. XD

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**GAH. I am like LATE. T.T**

**Forgive this old crone. I have school soon, and this means: I have to shop and get ready and worry endlessly while my brother just chills in the hammock like it's no big deal. Fat ass…I hope you're reading this, too, you fat ass! DX**

**A vivid thank you to everyone who enjoyed the last chapter. **

**Please enjoy this one!**

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**|.:Chapter Three:.|**

_Rightful Claim_

_**[Arthur]**_

Tucked carefully within the depths of Mathew's mind was a vampire. But, not just any, only an Ancient could host within a body already living and keep both souls intact…for a select amount of time. There was a time limit, yes. The Ancient could only stay in the host's body for a short amount of time, as the vampire's soul would use the host for resources.

The host was human, and the vampire needed substance that the human could not give it…willingly, anyway. So the vampire's soul stole from its host, and slowly reduced the host to nothing. However, by the time, the vampire had depleted the body; he would be able to rise again in a body similar to the one he died in. He would rise again, and go on about living, as if its death had never occurred.

**Such was the way of hosting.**

—**xXx—**

"Arthur?" Said vampire looked up from its internal musing. His green eyes were dark, not from hunger, but from slight anger. Mathew had the audacity to let the vermin live. He had received word from the neighboring fae and sprites while Mathew had slept and Arthur took his place in traveling.

Mathew had let the vermin; it was the ones who had kidnapped him from his manor and started the whole Hell Arthur had been suffering up until his death, and Mathew had let them all _live_. He hadn't been able to tell, when Arthur had spelled the hairs to disrupt a demon's sense of smell, when they came to investigate. Arthur knew they would investigate, and Mathew had let them live.

Arthur felt he had a right to be angry. Maybe, he was enough angered to walk in the wrong direction of Ivan's manor, when it was his turn to travel. It would show Mathew who was the real one with the power in their relationship. The boy had been acting too boldly, as of late. He had taunted the vermin, and allowed the little girl to send word; without cursing her to die when her time limit came, as Arthur would have. Mathew needed to be punished. The rightful punishment would be Arthur muddling Mathew's foolish journey to snatch back—

Wait, Alfred was with Ivan…If he stopped Mathew, then he would be stopping himself, wouldn't he?

He shook his head. No, he needed Ivan, he would have Ivan. Green eyes lashed dark, and Mathew's violet eyes darkened suddenly, as Arthur's anger slowly rose as he remembered the smell of Ivan in Alfred, from Mathew's memory.

A snarl ripped through him. He thought he had gotten rid of the brat, when he had had Ivan toss them out nearly twenty years ago. They had gotten along well, initially, until Alfred had decided he would rather run amuck and cause more problems than usable solutions. This wasn't even the worst part. He had demanded to be treated more like an "adult", whilst he had still held to his stubborn attitude of a spoiled child.

Arthur had declined his wishes, and then, what does the boy do? Alfred tries to steal Ivan from right under his nose. He hadn't noticed it at first, the little glances taking longer than necessary and going to Ivan for more things rather than Arthur. Even though, Arthur could still deny Ivan, because he was the head of the manor. Though he doubted that even mattered now…

Ivan had his own manor now, and he was sure that Alfred was probably laughing at his grave. Mocking him, calling Arthur a fool to ever think he could keep Ivan from his hands. Did Ivan even know the reason why Alfred and Mathew's house burn down? Did he know the truth of their parents' demise or about the presence of—?

"Arthur," Arthur was snapped from his thoughts, once more. He sighed, allowing Mathew a slight entrance into his mind. "What is it, Mathew?"

Said hunter had stopped at a wrangled tree, and small creek. The blonde let out a sigh of relief, as he cupped his hands and took a much needed drink. Arthur huffed, and was about to turn away, when Mathew's voice spoke to him. "Are you taking over, or are staying here for the night?"

Arthur took a moment to think it over. The forest was well covered, by the looks of it. He could sense the presence of magic lingering in the air; most likely from something small like fairies and sprites, nothing large or particularly dangerous…Well, that is if you didn't count the also lingering smell of something dark coming off of the creek.

But then he could smell that a demon had been through here. He couldn't tell how much of a threat the demon was, or had been, as much of its scent had been diluted by the water. But he could easily smell demon. This meant that he and Mathew needed to keep moving.

Arthur hadn't always been on good relations, with anything not in his territory. Look at what Gilbert did to him, or tried to do to him. Gilbert had been jealous of him, and how his territory had been expanding west while the German mixed blood was being pushed east where his territorial reach was limited to what the Chinese Ancient vampire hadn't already claimed.

Gilbert had tried to rid him off the map, and Ivan had taken his place, and thus shrunk Gilbert further, unless the other signed to no bloodshed or territorial expanse to keep his lineage and head.

Arthur and Gilbert hadn't gotten along very well, and because Mathew hadn't followed orders, he could be tracked easier now. Arthur had a feeling that they had been tracked earlier, ten years prior, by Alfred. But, he had a feeling, since Mathew was still alive, despite the threat Ivan had more than proved to be to any enemy that someone was covering their actions or at the very least – messing with tracking efforts.

Arthur hoped that he could have their meddling on the other side, for additional time, as he said, "No. I'm afraid not. There are others here." He felt, more than saw, Mathew reach for the weapon at his side, and sighed.

Mathew's human senses were barely anything to a vampire, without Arthur in charge; if the human went against a demon, he was doomed. Arthur could only do so much, this wasn't his body, and although he was sharing it and his temporary host had some benefits, it was slowly costing Mathew in the long run. He would feel it sooner rather than later. Hopefully, later, so Arthur could get to his goal and toss Mathew aside.

"Mathew," Arthur reprimanded. "You can't fight them off. You simply can't – For all of the skill, that you think you have, you won't hold up against them." He felt some of Mathew's slight hurt and anger at the indirect insult, but he saw the hunter lower the weapon.

"So," Mathew said, as he looked around for anything. "What will we do, then?" Even as a human, his eyesight was still better than average and most. He could hear fairly well, and his reaction time was similar to a perceptive cat. He would able to sense the enemy, surely. But…if Arthur was right, then fighting them was a different matter, altogether.

Arthur took a moment to think. He could let them kill Mathew, which was an option, a demon host – even if the demon blood count was small, would be better than Mathew's. It was going to drive him insane. It had to do with his heritage, Arthur knew.

But he still needed to get to Ivan. That was his prime goal…well, maybe not his prime goal, but next to it. His other goals included getting rid of the twins, Gilbert and his lineage, and taking his rightful spot beside Ivan. The date of Judgment was approaching, if Arthur wasn't in his new body then, then he could have no hopes of being at Ivan's side.

He would be rejected. Alfred, if he wasn't rid of in the competition, would take his place. He would probably have him killed immediately, for killing his brother and thus would end Arthur's second shot at supposed immortality.

But…if he made it in time, he could beat Alfred, and then be beside Ivan when the day arose and the prophecy was fulfilled. Right now, it was halfway; Ivan had his crown and a fraction of his power. His blood had been awakened. But now he had to have his mate sewn into him. To sew their souls together, meant that, should one ever die, their souls would find each other again. When they came back, their power would arise once more, even greater than the last time, and they would continue to rule.

For the Original Red King was never supposed to die. But he was betrayed, by the one who he should have been able to trust the most.

Arthur would see to it, he was the one chosen to be beside Ivan. He wouldn't allow something like Alfred was, prior to his Turning, being sewn with Ivan. That was his spot. Only he could fill it, and only he should have the right to be connected to the Red King to such a way.

**It was his and his alone.**

"I'll travel for us," Arthur said. He felt Mathew nod, and felt the boy slipping back to allow him temporary control. He felt their souls brush past each other, and barely held back a shiver. The fact that Mathew was here today told volumes. His heritage was still there, even though Alfred held it more strongly, but it was there.

Arthur blinked through Mathew's eyes, the violet hue a bit darker and having a small shade of gold at its depths. He shook his head of Mathew's thoughts, pushing the other further back so he could think on his own, and then he rose to his feet. He looked up at the moon, reaching out with his mind to sense any approaching threats.

None, he realized with a small relief spreading through him. He started forward, his hand within easy reach of the blade Mathew carried, and the assortment of knives and stilettoes he carried otherwise. With him in control, Mathew's body could take on a few more hits than Mathew, so once he decided the coast was clear after having a sprite give him a statement of the area, he began back on the path to Ivan's manor.

There was only so much time that Mathew's body could last much longer, with him inside, and there were only so many days before the Day came. Arthur would see to it that it was him, when the blood red rose. It was going to be him. It had to be him.

Ivan was his, neither Alfred's nor anyone else that Ivan liked to entertain himself with. Ivan was his and his alone. Ivan would continue to be his. If Arthur had to rid the world of two brothers, and rid the world of future bloodshed and chaos on their part, then so be it.

Ivan had been born into his immortal life as his, had been raised as his, and damn it – Ivan was going to live throughout his immortalities as Arthur's.

**There were no exceptions.**

—**xXx—**

This was short as Hell. I know that. I'm so sorry…! T-T

I wanted to introduce some Arthur, instead, because I need longer on the RusAme scene. I don't know why, but Ivan is being a bitch. He will not give in to smut. Damn you, commie. Excuse my language.

I promise I'll get the RusAme scene! I PROMISE! I can't say it will be the next chapter, or that it will be the one after that, but I WILL get it. I don't know why Ivan will not obey the laws of yaoi. Alfred is sexy, he is offering. WHO WOULDN'T JUMP AT THAT OFFER?

….I would. But, then again, I'm just a girl at a computer. What the Hell does Alfred care?

Off of my depressing train of thought, please, I know you guys want to bash my face in, but please…let me keep it. I still need this face to finish school. ;n;

ANYWAYS: Now, we have introduced more PLOT. (TUMS will come soon, as soon as Ivan quits bitching.)

**READ AND REVIEW!**


	5. Cross Arguments

**Eternal Damnation**

**Rating: **M

**Summary:** It is time to see where your loyalties lie. It is time to see if you are strong enough to resist temptation. It is time to see if you would survive at all. America x Vampire!Russia

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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Author Alert: love-for-bakas, purplelover13

Story alert/ Favorites: ** summer164, kittypow13, love-for-bakas, crazychick6692, BlackRoseDraco, Maxiay, purplelover13, **

Reviewer(s)!: ** Prussian Sinister, Animaegan, DanieSora, Ashcola17, Nana, love-for-bakas, Leylani-sama, EmoMoonPie**

Prussian Sinister: Creepy is awesome, what are you on? …I'm not giving you a pipe. EVER.

Animaegan: See, Ivan? See, someone else wants you to fuck Alfred? SO DO IT. I'm glad you think so, hun! I'll try to keep them up, when school starts up again! :)

DanieSora: :D

Ashcola17: …LOL, that would work. You really hate Arthur, well, get over it, there is more of him to come! Mwuahaha! *bricked* Ivan's reaction to Arthur is actually a chapter, now that I think about it…BLUEBERRY PIE? GIMME, GIMME, GIMME! I LOVE BLUE AND BERRIES. YOU ARE SO AMAZING. (I'm so fat, right now, I shouldn't even be begging for sweets. What about the diet, I was supposed to be following?)

Nana: You're right, Nana, jealousy is not becoming for a gentleman. *finger waggle at Arthur* Yes, now we have seen Arthur's side of the story and his reason for using Mattie. Timothy might live, and then Arthur might kill him- whether on purpose, on accident or because of his hosting- I won't tell.

They share minds and emotions, so yes, you're correct. So of course, George's feelings are not always his own. Some days, he finds himself hating Alfred for no reason, and that is because of Arthur. With Arthur as the host, some lines are blurred beyond recognition. (But yes, what's-his-face could regain himself…if he wanted to.) RusAme, yay!

…LOL, don't ever say that last bit aloud. Ivan might slap you, Al will laugh, and Arthur will plot your demise. XDD

love-for-bakas: You'll just have to see until the story ends to see if Eddie lives hun~ I'm glad you love it!

Leylani-sama: No, Arthur is not a zombie! Thank Gott. (Who the fuck is Jim? XD) As you can see Ivan still cares for the little boy he raised, but not the dark young man he has grown into. Obsession is always good to read. You're feeling conflicted? Think of it this way: Who is more likely to be the happier (read: mutual love) relationship. Yeah. RusAme: 10J0, RusEng: -1. (:x That is sad, in itself, so I will not speak further to insult it.)

But jealousy makes everything fun! :D Yes, ja, yes, it is such a love triangle. It won't be pretty for Ivan and Arthur. But it will be even worse for Arthur and Alfred…Yes, Yao does make an appearance, and he is an ally/friend.

EmoMoonPie: Hurrah, another fan! ^_^ (Yes, Ivan, get your ass to Alfred and give us crazy fan girls lemons. :o) Maple syrup tamed the badass. I have to write that one down.

: Hallo stalker~ :DD

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**A lot of you will either hate me, or hate Natalya. Some of you may hate me (again) and then hate on Ivan. Some of you will be shaking your heads at me, and then at Ivan and Alfred. Some of you may story talking about couple communication. (And anger management.)**

**But most of all: All of you will be at least happy (hopefully) that I was finally able to update.**

**Thanks to all who've still stayed with me, despite how long I've been gone. I can't thank you enough. Take this update as a gift with a sorry German that begging for forgiveness.**

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**|.:Chapter Four:.|**

_Cross Arguments_

_**[Alfred]**_

"Absolutely not," Ivan said, and his dark aura began to settle over the room. His younger sister, Natalya stood stock still under it. She was still only half-demon, and could barely stand in her brother's presence, without making herself ill. He constantly had to tell her to leave him, but she was stubborn as always and remained.

Especially now, for her dear Lilli, she would remain by her brother forever. Her loyalty was still unmatched by many and the emotion they were most passionate about, but a few could stand against her. One of those few was the blonde standing beside her. Alfred.

Alfred, the young demon, narrowed his blue eyes. The air grew tense, and he saw, out of the corner of his eyes, that Natalya hid the shiver that ran through her. He saw how hard she was trying not to fall. She was trying to appear strong, like her beloved big brother. He could easily her desires to be strong like him, so people would take her more seriously.

They: would be the other demons, the ones who ranked above her, because of their blood being superior. They would respect her. They would stop asking her to be like 'sweet and nice Katyusha' who listened and babied everyone. Another sweet Katyusha who would tend to everyone and be kind to all who needed or wanted a motherly touch.

No, they would respect her, as Natalya Bragniski, for being firm with them. Like big brother would be, when he decreed an order and called their attention. They would love her, like all the others did when Ivan did away with threats and attempted invasions, how eh would eliminate them before the danger had even a chance to think of its next move.

Alfred looked to the man who his little sister so admired. The pale blonde looked back at him, and his face was no less hard than his own, if not harder. Ivan's face was stern, and his eyes could stop any enemy who dared to approach him in their tracks.

Few people would dare to go against him. But Alfred was one of the few; he liked to think he could fight Ivan and have a fair chance. A fair chance in this sense, translating to: he wouldn't be brutally killed in the first five minutes.

"I think you should reconsider, Ivan," Alfred tried not to growl. He had noticed a few years back, that holding you temper around Ivan tended to influence him to hold his. Although, in this situation, it would only help to keep the other from seeing red from Alfred arguing with him.

"I will not," Ivan said firmly, and his eye started to slit for a second before drawing back to their regular form. Alfred tried to use that as a good thing. If Ivan was able to stop himself, then he could press further.

"I think you should too, big brother," Natalya spoke up, and Alfred silently thanked her. She might not agree with him most days, on nearly everything, but if she was backing him up now, then maybe he would have a chance to persuade Ivan. Even something as little as sending out a search party, it would do wonders to calm Natalya.

Ivan's violet eyes narrowed, and a slight lisp came to his words, as his fangs lengthened, "You as well, Natalya…?" Said woman nodded, "Da, yes, big bro-Ivan. I am taking Alfred's side in this."

Ivan's face told of slight shocked anger, but then softened somewhat, as Natalya said, "I do not require Alfred's assistance, however. I will take a squad of my own, no one you will miss too dearly." Alfred spun on his heel, eyes nearly burning bright, as Natalya went on, as if Alfred wasn't already infuriated by her betrayal of him.

"I can go and search the manor," she said to Ivan. Alfred soon found it wasn't so much that Natalya was arguing to go by herself, and leave him here, it was more of the fact that Ivan seemed to be listening to her. Whereas, he had grown angry that Alfred was even thinking of going. Even with a full squad and bodyguards, Ivan had turned him down. But Natalya was offering to leave with a small team of possibly vampires and half breeds –

"Da, fine, I can agree with that."

–And Ivan just agreed to it. Alfred saw red, just before Natalya could utter a word or anything to respond to Ivan, an overwhelming fell only to Alfred. The blue-eyed blonde demon fell to the floor, thrashing, and snapping at the air. Natalya looked down on him, some self-satisfied look in her eyes, but mostly her own fear as Alfred struggled under the invisible hand that Ivan had him under.

"Thank you, Natalya, for taking upon such an action for me," Ivan said sweetly. Said woman was silently commanded to raise her head from the floor, where Alfred was being forced to silence. She felt herself nodding, and replying, "It is no trouble at all, big brother."

The moment that Ivan said, "You are dismissed." Natalya vanished from the room, and Alfred felt the pressure over him cease to exist. He took in a breath, feeling his chest expand, right before he dared to look up when he felt the air pressure.

He looked right up to dark slits set in pale stone sat behind Ivan's chair. Alfred growled in his defense, as he tried to pick himself up, before snapping, "What the Hell! I should've have gone too, and you know it! That should have been me, and –!"

"Nyet," the Russian word for no was clipped, and it sounded so sharp that Alfred stood still. Blue eyes were still far darker than normal, and rosy skin was still pale, but Alfred did not half as threatening as the Russian demon staring at him. "I will not allow you to walk about in the open like that."

"Why not?" Alfred snarled. His fists clenched at his sides. "Why can't I go, when you just allowed **your** precious fucking **sister** to go?"

Ivan's eyes were slits, dark slits of obsidian, as he said, "Because I have reason to believe that it was **your **precious little **brother** that did the attack in the first place." Alfred stood still, his eyes widened, and his heart yelped. His eyes immediately flashed, and then they were light. His skin, however, grew paler in fear.

He was already backing up, as Ivan was pushing his chair back, and rising to his feet. "Da, Alfred, I've known." Alfred said nothing, and the demon King continued, "I've known for a very long time."

Alfred said nothing, and neither did Ivan for all of a few minutes. The air was thick enough to choke on, and a dark aura was steadily pulsing and spreading over the room.

"You are dismissed, Alfred." Ivan said, firmly, as he turned away and went to a door leading to another one of his quarters. "I wish not to have to speak of this again. You will not be going after your brother, under any circumstances. Good-bye."

Ivan walked away, and when he shut the door, the slam all but screamed the word of finality. The air seemed to vaporize itself of all of the previous tension and lingering aura. But it was cold. The room was so cold. Alfred was making the room cold.

The usually happy, blonde bit his lip, and tried to remain in the office. Even though, he could feel some of Ivan's power still commanding him to leave. His image in reality wavered, and he felt his chest throb with pain at his stubbornness to leave. But in the end, he let go.

**He couldn't even overpower a command to leave, how could he save his brother?**

—**xXx—**

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**I'm so sorry, Alfie! ;n;**

I feel so bad…I'm so late…I don't have much to say…Verdammt, please review. I didn't mean for this to take so long to update. Some shit in the real world, including personal drama, have made sure that I have not even touched upon my computer other than to do work.

Ugh…this is why, I enjoy holidays. I don't have to work until my fingers cramp up. I miss summer, already. v.v

—**xXx—**


	6. A Cutlass for Your Thoughts?

**Eternal Damnation**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** It is time to see where your loyalties lie. It is time to see if you are strong enough to resist temptation. It is time to see if you would survive at all. America x Vampire!Russia

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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**For those here: **

**Disregard the incoming violence; please look past the slight slurs and stuff. **

**I turned down the rating again, because someone/AKA my sometimes-beta told me that my story was still fitting T-ratings, and I was like: "Really? Okay then."**

**Uh…I can't remember what else I was going to say…Damn it. Ah well, have fun. :)**

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**|.:Chapter Five:.|**

_A Cutlass for Your Thoughts?_

_**[Mathew]**_

_Half-breeds, although more common in Gilbert's kingdom, had taken more just a small liking to be under Ivan's Kingdom; one reason would be the fact that should their life be threatened, if they were part demon then their life was ensured to be protected._

_Half vampires had more privileges than humans, such as going out to certain area on the borders of the Red King's Kingdom and venturing out a certain distance to feed off on bandits and others. Some half-breeds made a living out of doing so._

_But there were some whom in the Kingdom, that chose to serve under the Red King, himself, or more directly to worker under his brilliant if sadistic and merciless General of a younger sister. The half-breed, herself, was stronger than the average vampire and she corrected loose lips easily. She cut out the mouth's offending tongues._

_There was one half breed vampire, her mother a human and a victim of circumstances, who had come to adore the stronger woman. So much so that she devoted more time to working, than she did to stop and think about the sort of danger that she was putting herself into._

_She ignored her mother's warnings, and had a shady witch underground in the Kingdom; cook up a spell for her. The half-breed was seeking more attention from her role model, but she can only do so much and she had taken a beating in her last battle._

_Not only that, but she was out of a partner. He had seen her use potions, something prohibited for half-breeds because of the adverse side-effects, and she had killed him and claimed that he was a traitor to save her own skin._

_The witch had sealed the bottle, and tried to warn her that sometimes taking so many spells was bad for the human portion of her body and could cause her life to be endangered at a critical moment._

_The half-breed laughed, and just threw down the gold pieces, saying that the old woman should "watch her tongue, before she lost it". And she walked away. The witch frowned, and when the half breed was out of range, her face changed to that of smug._

"_Master Kirkland will be proud."_

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Mathew tracked through the edges of the woods, feeling himself to be near but at the same time, not even knowing where the Hell he was. He tried not to sigh, to give away his position to anyone who could be possibly listening.

His side throbbed, and he held back a grunt. Something, he hadn't had time to get a good look at its face, had tried to take a bite of him. He had stabbed it, as it ran away laughing, but apparently it was immune to silver.

His garnet had confirmed with a warning hum, that whatever had bitten him wasn't something to take lightly.

Pushing away from underbrush that tried to hug his waist, the Hunter continued forwards. But then, he paused. He thought he had heard something. He wanted to think that he was imagining it. But it sounded like…

"Shit! A pack!" The Hunter took off in the direction he had come from, hoping it was a safe one. He could hear Arthur mumbling things in his mind, trying to pinpoint the offenders. But Mathew didn't so much as need it, as he used to.

The garnet was near burning on his chest, and he truly believed that the hum was getting more audible with each breath and dash he made. Never one to take the gem's warnings lightly, he ran faster.

He was huffing for breath, cursing his luck. He wasn't terribly afraid, no, but he was still wounded – bleeding – and if he went against a pack of demons or vampires or even half-breeds with little heritage left to call them even that, he was doomed for a bad fight.

Demons loved the chase. Vampires loved the pure taste of fear. Half-breeds wouldn't be able to think straight, amidst all of the uncontrollable urges and instincts over their human ones, and would just be purely savage. How else would some second-rate breed have survived for so long?

Mathew dashed around a corner, and then came to a fork in the woods. In one, he could hear wolves. In the other, he could hear the whisper of dark pixies that he could only faintly see as grey and darkly-colored grey spheres of light.

He had chosen the wrong forest to come in contact with a pack with. If he went with wolves, they wound smell his blood and attack him. Wolves had bigger packs than even demons. Not a good thing to have, but good to know if he ever had to make a decision like this.

On the other hand, if he went with the pixies, then he could ensure himself death slowly. Those kinds of pixies loved to play mental games; games in which they messed with a player's mind and made him see things that weren't there. If he looked like he was going to win their game – basically, making past a certain distance from them – the pixies would throw a fit, and try to bite him.

Arthur had told him of a time, when he had been bitten by a mean-spirited dark pixie, as a vampire. He was in bed, for nearly a week. He had been over a century by then. If they could bed a century-old vampire, then Mathew knew himself as a human against them was going to turn very ugly.

"Damn it," he swore as he tried to think on his feet. He took his sword from its sheath, and tried to think a bit more. "Arthur, care to help?"

"Working on it," the vampire responded, growling a bit, "But I'm afraid to say that the wolves are your best option over the pixies and the pack behind us. Who are, give or take, about a few hundred kilometers from where you stand right about now."

"Good to know," the Hunter snarled, and then straightened. Something in his side split, and he hissed. But he refused to fall. He put his fingers to the wound…and came away with the chip of a fang. His garnet chose to hum.

"Bit by a demon, very nice," Arthur growled. "Now either we both die, by infection or slow-working venom or by being torn apart by other demons. Brilliant."

"I don't see you doing anything," Mathew snapped, and tried to edge towards the darker aspects of the wooding. He wasn't necessarily picking a path, but he might have the element of surprise over his opponent, should worse come to even worse.

Right as Mathew was getting tired of waiting, he sees off in the distance: a bob of curly blonde hair and all too bright green eyes over pale skin. It was a young woman, barely out of her teens, and she was holding a sword that was too heavy against her small frame.

"Are you kidding me?" Mathew breathed, as he looked ready to snarl. Seconds passed, and he only saw her. There was no pack, and he could tell off right off the bat by the baby fangs poking from her lip that not only was she was not a demon; she was a half breed vampire.

But she was using magic. It was magic that made her presence seem greater, and seem like a danger-worthy demon. That was some powerful magic. That was what made Mathew remain cautious in the shadows. Half-breeds, he knew, shouldn't use magic. The side effects tended to be their fatal conclusion. But this girl was using some powerful spell, and the Hunter could already see the toll taking on her body.

Her eyes blinked too often, as if she couldn't quite see straight, making her squint hard. Her ribs held some impression in her fake leather. Her feet weren't quite matching the other in pacing. She took two steps on one, and then one step on the other. She was limping, but she hid it well.

Also, she was skinny. Terribly so. Mathew could have pinched her arm, and felt her bone almost immediately. She was pretty much a weakling, barely able to be held up to the title of half-breed. But she was using magic, powerful magic, that was what Mathew couldn't wrap his head around.

"Come out, vermin," the girl tried to sound threatening, but her voice was too soft and Mathew felt some fraction of a damn to mentally laugh at her. She was pathetic.

"I can smell your stench," the girl continued, "Come out, and maybe I will kill you mercilessly for Lord Ivan."

Hello. Maybe she wasn't so useless, after all. Mathew felt a small dark spark appear in his eyes, and he heard Arthur chuckle darkly in his mind. She knew where the manor was, and had all but admitted it. She was a dumbass, trying to appear tough and with a lot of influence, but in reality, a weakling.

But a know-it-all weakling was going to be Mathew's next victim.

The girl was coming within good range, and just as her head turned to scope out the scents to the wolf pack where some of Mathew's blood remained in the dirt, the Hunter took a stiletto to stab her in the back. She turned a bit quicker than he had thought her to be able to, and he struck down in her upper shoulder instead.

Nevertheless, she screamed and thrashed, hissed and tried not to fall to her knees. Mathew was nearly struck by her waving arms, as the girl struggled to pull the knife free. He stared at her for a short moment, and then scoffed. He had seen baby demons, demons barely above a decade, take even stilettos to the face, and get back up easily. With not even close to a fraction of the tears that the girl was making.

He shook his head, before readying his primary sword to get rid of her quickly. Somehow, he felt like he would be getting to the manor too easily, by just threatening her life. Not to say that he wasn't going to do it, anyways. He had a brother to rescue and a demon King to slaughter. Time was not of the essence here.

"You cunt!" the girl screeched, as she finally threw the dagger to a bush, and turned on her heel to face Mathew. She didn't even have a chest. The Hunter wanted to laugh at her, and then tell her to go home and let the actual big dogs play. But he needed what she knew.

The Hunter raised a brow at her choice of words, and then shrugged. He could fight her easily, he thought, but then he saw the vial of murky green liquid around her neck. Arthur was murmuring something in his mind, and Mathew tuned in to understand that the other said, "Take her vial. That's where her magic is coming from. Take it."

Mathew nodded, and when the girl ran at him, trying to make a form of Valkyrie cry –she couldn't even flash towards him or snarl even close to scary. Mathew wore an inner mask of disappointment, but he didn't feel the shred of guilt as he felt her body quickly plunge itself onto his sword. She slid down, her eyes wide, and her lip whimpering.

"Da-damn it all, not fair," the girl yelled pathetically, she tried to claw at Mathew's face, but he easily took a booted heel and kicked her off his sword.

She flopped and bounced on the ground, whining and then looking up to glare at him. "I am a powerful vampire, why don't you fear me!" The Hunter raised a brow, and then held up his garnet. It didn't even glow much when he held his bloodied sword next to it.

"Bad genes, kid," He said, simply. He put the sword down, and let of the garnet. The girl stared at it, could faintly sense its magic, and then smirked, "Give it to me. I want that magic."

The Hunter didn't even dignify her words with a response, but he was met with a surprise as the girl flashed towards him, blood still gushing from the wound on her back. Her green eyes were now near solid black and she had longer teeth. Her skin was pale, and blue veins were visible.

"Give me your gem. I want it," the girl demanded. Mathew wasn't afraid of her, but he was curious. Why did her image look off? It almost looked like it was blurry near the edges of her skin, where the very layer met air. It…moved, rippled in a way.

"It's a mirage, part of her spell," Arthur explained to Mathew, who took this information in silently. "She can't flash; she just slowed your mind, and made it seem as if she did. Her fangs are faux too."

With this new information in mind, instead of following the girl's demands, the Hunter tapped the stone. "Fight for it. Take it from me."

She came at him, once again, all wrong. Her feet were spaced too far, her arms weren't aiding in any sort of defense. Her hair was going into her face for crying out loud, and she was doing that weird shriek. It was comical, really.

Mathew shook his head sadly, as he sheathed his sword quickly and, when the girl was finally within range, he took his foot from up and off the ground to crack against her jaw. Her eyes were wide, as she blinked and then landed right where Mathew had predicted she wound.

Right in the sound middle of a jutting branch, she had pretty much stabbed through. She hung there, crying, as Mathew walked over silently, and tore the vial from her neck. He inspected her for any other valuables, finding demon teeth and vampire tongue and all sorts of things to make a half-breed succeed up in power.

The girl cried the whole time.

The Hunter ignored her, and when he had finally had that he wanted, saving for the expensive and flashy jewelry which he had no care for, that Arthur said was simply material and not magic, and the Hunter put a dagger to the girl's throat.

Snot was flowing down the middle of her lips, her make-up had run, and her tears made her look even work. "P-please, d-don't," she begged, trying to bring up her hands. "I-I got a mama back ho-home, waiting for me. I-I can't di-die, she ne-needs me to t-take care of her!"

"Sounds like a personal problem," the Hunter responded, and then he pressed the dagger close enough to break the skin, but not to immediately bleed. "Where is Ivan Bragniski? You claimed to know him, tell me that."

"What do yo-you wa-want of the King?" The girl was trying to distract him, "He's done no-no wrong. He pro-protects us all!" Mathew blinked, and then took the dagger from her throat, pretending to look away at something in the distance. When the girl let out a sigh of relief, he struck her through the side with his dagger and just yanked downwards, humming.

Her screams were even more annoying than her war cries. Turning back to her face, the Hunter asked her again, "I don't have all day, night fall is soon, and I have a deadline to be in his presence. Tell me now."

"Are you from another Kingdom?" The girl asked. The Hunter didn't say anything, didn't blink, as he snarled, "That demon has my brother. I want him back."

Arthur mumbled something about the wolves coming their way, and for Mathew to hurry. The girl went still at only Mathew's previous words, having not heard Arthur or even the fast-approaching wolves, and then whispered, "Can I-I live if I tell you?"

_Depends_, Mathew thought, but what he said was, "We'll see."

"He's on the next plain, on a hill, kind of, and he is close to the mountainous region. It's not hard to miss, I promise." The girl said, and Mathew took in every syllable. He nodded, and the mused to himself. Twirling the dagger in between his fingers, he then said, "That's well and good."

With a swift movement, he cut the branch to let the girl fall to the ground. She yelped, and before she could thank him, Mathew was already climbing up a tree. He looked down at her, and asked, "Can you climb?"

Eying him with a sort of admiration, she stammered, as she blushed, "N-no."

The Hunter eyed her silently, and slight twinkle of mirth in his eyes, as he said, "Good." He climbed all the way up, and began dashing through the higher branches, already on his way. The girl didn't realize what he had meant, until she heard the deadly growls of several wolves behind her.

But when she looked back, it wasn't a wolf. Or even a large pack of wolves, it was a single demon. The same demon that had bit Mathew earlier:

It had no face, only a large red goat-slit eye in the right-hand corner slanted to the left, and a mouth that stretched from one ear to the other. Its form looked similar to that of a very tall human, but it walked on all fours like an ape. It grinned as it saw her and then her blood on the ground and running down her back.

The girl began to cry again, as just as the demon started to come closer, chuckling breathlessly, a small pack of overly large and ferocious wolves came up behind it. They all circled her. The wolves weren't even regular wolves. Obviously, at some generous one had eaten from a dying supernatural being and then caused all of its offspring and their offspring to be mutated into larger and blood-hungry beasts.

Their eyes didn't look sane, just blood-red goat-slits of pure hunger.

The girl's scream rang out through the air, and birds cawed and flew away at the horrendous scene below.

Some distance away, Mathew shook his head and then looked to one of the vials that he had taken from the girl. It was a strand of hair, platinum colored. Ivan had white hair that much Mathew remembered. If it was Ivan's hair, then he had struck gold.

The Hunter smirked, for the first time in a long time. But had he seen what was following close behind him, then maybe he wouldn't have smirked….

**The demon, from before, wanted a second helping.**

* * *

—**xXx—**

***shifty eyes* …I had on my "Sad Playlist" again…I should really invest in getting rid of that thing. …NAH. X)**

I'm so sorry, that this is late, guys, but I hope this makes up for it. The next chapter is actually in the works, so it shouldn't be so terribly late, like this one. *glares at window*

May the person who stole my flash drive BE EATEN BY MUTANTED COCKAROACHES. X(

******The half breed was supposed to be New Zealand, yes, I made it a girl. They don't have an official gender, but I wanted to kill a bitch.

Oh yeah, I remember now: Did you guess who the demon was? :}

—**xXx—**


End file.
